For Now We See Through A Glass, Darkly
by Purrrin
Summary: The Gates to Heaven close. In order to stay with Cas, God offers Dean an angel's Grace to become an angel himself. Although Heaven with Cas seems like Paradise, Dean starts questioning his choice and eventually commits a crime, ending up in Hell again...


**For Now We See Through A Glass, Darkly**

**Genre:** Romance / Drama

**Warnings:** religious themes, torture

**Author's Note: ** This story was written for the Dean/Castiel Big Bang challenge 2010. I always wanted to write a story with Dean giving up his life on Earth to be with Cas, because most times it's the other way around. Thanks go to my friend **Renn **for encouraging me to write it and **sephirothflame **for her patience and her amazing job as my beta!  
**Psycocatgirl **has created unoffical art for this story as well, please check out her amazing artwork on yukikousagi(dot)deviantart(dot)com/#/d2vjqdo! Thanks so much for it!  
And last but certainly not least thanks to** Neemeister** for pinch-hitting and creating this beautiful piece of art to go along with the story: neemeister(dot)livejournal(dot)com/10781(dot)html! Thanks so much for your hard work!

* * *

Whenever Dean ran his fingers along Castiel's spine, tracing across even, warm skin, he was able to forget. Even if it was just for a moment. It gave him strength to pretend that they would always be like this, calm and silent, lying close to each other in the hot, sheltering darkness.

The skin underneath his touch was soft, moving gently with the rhythm of Castiel's breath. He could hear it, a quiet, soothing flow of air. The sensation of Castiel's skin lured him once again. He felt the urge to kiss the flawless skin, to taste it with the tip of his tongue. For a second he considered it, he really wanted to, but he knew he couldn't. Not with the certainty that this would be the last time for all eternity.

He leaned forward and gently kissed the side of his back. A delicate spot for Castiel, Dean knew. There was a short movement and Dean continued tracing his finger across Castiel's shoulder blade and along his arm.

"You don't seem tired tonight." Castiel's words were soft although Dean couldn't decide whether there was a slight annoyance in his voice as well or not. "You usually fall asleep so quickly at night."

"I can't. Not this time." Dean stopped his movement and pulled his hand away. "When I wake up tomorrow morning, you'll be gone."

Castiel didn't reply but rolled to his side so that he could look into Dean's eyes.

For a moment they just stayed like that, frozen, simply looking at each other casually as if it was the most normal thing to do. Then Dean sighed quietly and ran his hand though Castiel's black hair. "What are you thinking?"

"What are _you_ thinking?" Castiel countered.

"That I don't want you to leave."

Castiel closed his eyes, allowing himself to memorize the sensation of Dean's hand against his head.

"I wish I could look inside your mind," Dean whispered quietly. "To see what you're thinking, what you're feeling. How you perceive this world around us."

"I would like that too," Castiel replied. "To know how humans perceive their world."

Dean held his breath as Castiel's words made a foolish hope inside his heart rise once again. "You could," he suggested. "Just… stay with me. Here. On Earth."

There was regret and guilt in Castiel's eyes as he rolled on his back, staring at the ceiling. "I can't. The Gates to Heaven will be closed tomorrow. If I don't go now, I will never be able to return ever again." He paused. "I… just can't leave everything behind. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be." Dean struggled not to let the expected disappointment show. "I would never ask that of you." There was a sad smile on his lips. "I could never leave Sam behind either. To think I would never be able to see him again… So… I understand. You're an angel. You belong in Heaven."

Castiel turned towards him again and touched Dean's cheek with the palm of his left hand. "I am sorry."

"Cas-"

Castiel put his finger on Dean's mouth to silence him and shook his head slightly. He let his fingers trace along Dean's lips and then down his neck until they reached the handprint on his shoulder. Pensive but at the same time almost playful, they started caressing the mark, tracing along the lines of scorched skin. "I will always be with you…" He lifted his gaze and their eyes met for a second until Dean brought their lips together in desperate, cruel passion. Whatever Dean needed of him now, he wouldn't deny him. Not tonight.

Dean was fervent, even more so than ever before. Castiel could feel his lover's doomed struggle against time that ran out with every passing instant, with every sensation. He could feel his desperate wish to keep what they had and make this the best night ever. It could have been, but their impending farewell seemed to oppress all happiness.

In the end Dean lay back against the cushion looking up at Castiel with dull, surrendering eyes. His face was nothing more than a frozen mask. "Cas, I-" Dean started, but Castiel interrupted.

"Sleep now," he said and kissed Dean on the forehead. "And never forget that I love you."

"I love you, too," Dean replied and closed his eyes, knowing that Castiel had already put a spell on him.

And when he woke up again the next morning, the angel was indeed gone.

* * *

On the first day, Sam asked Dean if he was alright. Dean said that he was.

On the second day, they had a case in Rosewood, Ohio.

On the third day, they tracked down a vampire. Dean got shot in his left upper arm.

On the sixth day, Dean took a shower and caught himself staring at the handprint. He was glad the bullet had missed the mark.

On the fourteenth day, they stayed at Bobby's for the night. Dean made coffee in the kitchen and spun round at the sound of flapping wings. He kicked the garbage can as he realized it had only been the wind turning the pages of one of Bobby's books.

On the twenty-fourth day, he cursed God for taking his love away from him.

On the forty-second day, Sam asked Dean if he was alright. Dean said he wasn't sure.

They hunted a wendigo on the forty-eighth day and Dean spent the night with fellow huntress Melanie Danbers. She was sweet and caring and he had a good time. She made him forget and he decided that he liked her.

On the sixtieth day, they killed a rogue angel who had refused to return to Heaven with his brothers and sisters and had started punishing humans for his misery. Dean refused to be reminded of Castiel.

He decided he hadn't liked Melanie that much after all on the sixty-fifth day. They broke up in the afternoon.

On the eightieth day, he drove around in his car. There was the painting of an angel on the wall of a church. He drove through a red light.

On the eighty-second day, Sam asked Dean if he really was alright. "No," Dean said and turned away. On that very night he started praying to God.

On the eighty-third day, he stopped praying to God again because it was stupid, useless and not very much like him to do so. Besides, what on Earth could God do to help him?

He returned to Melanie on the eighty-seventh day. They fought so hard she threw spoons at him and he slammed the door shut.

He took up praying again on the eighty-eighth day and on the ninety-seventh day – unexpectedly – his prayers were answered.

* * *

Dean Winchester was covered in grayish light when he turned his head in his dream and witnessed God's voice for the first time, bright and clear. It was a surreal experience. He knew from the very beginning that it was God's presence, yet something inside him couldn't stop doubting. He had never believed in God for all his life and – despite the existence of angels and the Devil indicating the existence of God – he had always kept his reservations.

Now, with God calling his name, he didn't know how to react. He felt small all of a sudden, very small and very lost. Should he plead in devotion? Should he demand boldly? He had heard so many stories of God's nature, a punishing God, a merciful God, an indifferent God… but what was God really like?

Dean didn't reply. The overwhelming weight of God's presence seemed to push him down and he felt his legs grow weak. He fell on his knees without even wanting to.

God demanded to know why Dean had requested his help.

"I want to be with Castiel again," Dean replied, finally finding the strength to speak. He lowered his head. "Please." Dean reminded himself that he had nothing to lose. Even if God declined his request, it was worth giving it a shot. Anxiously, he closed his eyes and waited for God's reaction.

God explained to him that Castiel was in Heaven now. He was an angel and angels belonged in Heaven.

"I know that," Dean said but decided not to give up yet. "I'm happy as long as he's happy, but… I still miss him." He paused. "He has helped me so much and I love him. So I wish we could be together again."

God said that he understood. However, the angels were not allowed to return to Earth again. The Apocalypse was averted and so there was no need for angels to walk among humans anymore.

Dean lowered his shoulders. "I understand."

God, however, continued. He said that Dean had done a good job in averting the Apocalypse and he was very grateful for his work. That was why God decided to offer Dean an angel's Grace as a thanks.

"Grace?" Dean's eyes widened. "You would have me become an angel? But that's not possible! I'm human and a human can't become an angel."

God replied that it was not impossible for him to do.

"I still have to decline that offer," Dean said with a quiet voice after a while. "It's because of my brother. If I became an angel, I would never be able to see him again. And I couldn't bear that. But still, thank you for that generous offer." It hurt him to say those words. An angel's Grace was more than he had ever expected. If he accepted he could be with Castiel. And even more than that: they would not have a short, painful human life together but a life in Heaven and they would be able to be with each other for all eternity.

Still, he could never leave Sammy behind. He couldn't lead an angel's life while Sam was on Earth struggling for survival day after day. He was his brother and he loved him more than anything. He was his family and Dean couldn't be without him.

God interrupted his thoughts by explaining that he would make an exception for Dean. Since Dean was originally a human being he should be allowed to visit Earth anytime he wished. He would be free to walk between Heaven and Earth.

Dean hesitated. This offer was too good to be true. There had to be a hitch somewhere!

There wasn't, God said as if he had read Dean's thoughts, because this was not a deal. It was a gift.

* * *

Castiel was waiting in the Garden. The Gates to Heaven were closed now and not all angels had returned. It made him sad to hear the names of those missing. Among them were good angels, some he cared about and some had even been close to what humans would call his friends. He didn't know why they had chosen to remain on Earth. Maybe their faith had been shaken so terribly that they were unable to take new faith in God? Castiel wasn't sure. What other reason could have made them stay behind? A voice inside his heart knew the answer. Maybe some of them had fallen in love with humans… He closed his eyes for a second. If that was true… then was it the wrong decision for him to return? Had he been… selfish? Not sacrificing enough? Or was this proof that his love for Dean was not as strong as the love other angels might have found on Earth?

Dean had told him that he understood Castiel's decision. He had told him that he would do just the same in his place because he couldn't stand being separated from his brother. Castiel had thought that his decision had been of mutual consent. Was he mistaken? What if Dean had only agreed to make it easier for Castiel to leave? Doubts started to make him feel uneasy. For a short moment he wished to see Dean again, to talk to him. He wished Dean would reassure him that it was alright. He wished…

A familiar voice called his name and Castiel turned around.

There was an angel standing next to him and at first Castiel didn't recognize him. It was an angelic presence he had never felt before and still, it felt familiar. Then Castiel took one step back. "Dean?" He lowered his head as if to inspect him in disbelief. "You're an angel." He was totally overwhelmed. "How?"

Dean tried to crack a smile. "You gave everything for me. And this is what I give to you." He watched Castiel's every movement, but even without looking at him he could feel surprise mixing with happiness inside Castiel's heart. He realized that – as an angel – he was able to feel Castiel's emotions as if they were an open book for him to read. It was an incredible feeling.

Castiel shook his head and closed his eyes for a second. "I can't believe this."

Dean reached out his hand to touch Castiel's arm gently. "I hope it makes you happy."

"What about Sam? You gave up your brother…"

"I didn't," Dean replied. "I'm allowed to return to Earth anytime I want. I can be with Sam the way I used to be in the past. And like this, I can protect my brother even better than I could before. Cas, I can have a lifetime with Sam and an eternity with you at the same time."

"Oh, Dean…" Castiel replied and pulled him into a warm embrace.

Dean's face was buried in soft feathers stroking his skin. "So this is your real look, huh?" He blew one of the feathers away that tickled his nose. "It's amazing." He lifted his hand to stroke through Castiel's fluffy, white wings. "They're… huge… and impressive… and so soft…"

"You've got wings of your own now, Dean."

He could hear Castiel's voice close to his ear. For an instant it sent a shiver down his spine as he felt Castiel's hand brush across his own wings carefully. At first the touch felt like tiny needles piercing into Dean's back. The sensation of having wings was overwhelming and unfamiliar at the same time, but letting the feathers be touched by someone for the first time was as exciting as it was painful.

Suddenly, Dean realized how much his body had changed now. No, he didn't even have a real physical body anymore. He was an angel now, a cosmic creature, and the wings on his back were part of his self now. They felt heavy and scared him a bit but he knew they belonged to him now. He was one with them. Against his expectations they didn't feel like those plastic wings children usually strap on when playing an angel during carnival or at some nativity play at school. They felt real and linked to his body the same way his legs or his arms were. And now Castiel was the first to ever touch these delicate body parts. Dean winced.

"I'm sorry," Castiel immediately pulled away. "Was that unpleasant for you?"

"No! No, not at all, it was just… I'm not used to someone touching my wings. Hell, I'm not even used to having them!"

Castiel hesitated as if he didn't know how to react, until Dean grabbed his hand again and put it back against his wings.

"It feels nice," he added reassuringly. "It really does."

A slight smile curved Castiel's lips as he continued stroking through the soft, snow white feathers. "They're so beautiful, your wings."

Dean didn't reply. For a few minutes he simply lost himself in all those new sensations around him. It was so unfamiliar, new and alien, but Castiel held him in his arms and he knew everything was going to be alright. "I really missed you, Cas," he whispered quietly. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"It must have been hard for you," Castiel mused. "In Heaven time flows differently, Dean. So here, not even a single day has passed since I left. I woke up next to you this morning."

"Really?" Dean didn't even listen properly. He was overwhelmed by joy and the sound of Castiel's voice was so pleasant. "On Earth it was almost three months."

"It's over now," Castiel assured him and pulled him closer.

They stayed like that for a while until Dean pulled away. "So… this is Heaven?" he said looking around properly for the first time.

"Yes," Castiel said and let his gaze wander around this place – that was no doubt familiar to him – as if he saw it for the first time as well. "This is the Garden."

Dean held his breath. "The last time I saw this it was… some greenhouse. But this…" he said almost silently and he couldn't help feeling the heavy mysterious sanctity that covered this place.

"You're an angel now," Castiel explained bluntly. "You can see Heaven for what it really is."

"It's beautiful," Dean said and he had never before felt those words to sound any truer.

They were standing in the middle of a meadow. The grass was golden like it was in fall. There seemed to be no limitations to this place. The meadow vanished somewhere beyond the far horizon. A few miles ahead there was a huge tree with strong branches, its deep green leaves were rustling in the gentle breeze stroking the grass. The sky above them was dark blue, almost black as if it was night, but still a magical golden glow illuminated everything with gentle dark light as if an invisible sun was just about to rise on the far horizon. It was a magical, supernatural place that couldn't physically exist anywhere on Earth. Dean was able to feel the solemn sacred presence inhabiting the Garden. Fearsome and kind at the same time.

"This is the most beautiful place I've ever seen, Cas," Dean said after a while and took Castiel's hands into his own. "I want to spend eternity here with you. I really do."

Castiel looked back at him. The golden light was reflected in his green eyes. "I want that too," he said and kissed him as if to seal a promise.

* * *

Sam Winchester had pictured his brother's return a thousand times. He had imagined him to suddenly appear in the middle of the room and Sam would wince in surprise. Maybe Dean would look like one of his teachers from high school or like one of those guys from the automobile commercials on TV. Maybe he would even have to use a woman's body as his vessel. Sam wouldn't be surprised. He was prepared for any age, race or gender. But one thing Sam knew for certain was that they would look at each other and he would immediately know it was his brother. They would hug, he knew that for certain, and maybe he would even have to suppress a few happy tears for having his brother back. And then they would sit down and take a bottle of beer and Dean would tell him everything about Heaven. About what Heaven looked like. About the other angels. About what angels did all day long. About God, the Garden and definitely about what it felt like being an angel. Having wings. Being able to fly around, read other people's minds and sense human beings anywhere on Earth.

The real reunion, however, was nothing like that.

Somebody knocked on the door and when Sam opened, he was looking right into his brother's face.

"Hi Sam," Dean said.

"Hi," Sam replied and made way so that Dean could enter the room. He looked just as always. Nothing had changed about him.

And then there was this awkward silence. They didn't hug, they didn't cry tears of joy, because nobody dared to.

"You look… normal," Sam said.

"Yeah, I know." Dean looked at him. "Was allowed to use my old body as my vessel. You know, like Anna did."

"That's nice," Sam replied and tried to crack a smile.

And silence returned.

"So," Sam lifted his hands struggling for something to say. "What's it like, being an angel?"

"Oh, it's good," Dean said almost instantly. "It's good."

"Great," Sam swallowed and turned his head. "So, you want a bottle of beer?"

"Yeah, sure."

It took them a while until the strange awkwardness started to cease. They slowly went back to normal and it helped them stop feeling uncomfortable around each other. They started talking about a case Sam was working on and avoided mentioning anything angel-related. It became so much easier when they acted as if Dean had never been gone.

Sam decided he liked it very much that his brother still was the same as before. He had imagined Dean to give him those long glances Castiel always did or maybe zap around the room like crazy to show off with his new abilities, but Dean didn't do any of that. In the evening Dean even lay on the motel bed with the remote control in his hands, watching an episode of some lame reality show and Sam knew they would be fine, even without a hug or tears of joy. Actually, especially without them.

* * *

The next morning they went out hunting a pair of wendigos. Dean got to drive again and he loved it.

"You know what, there isn't really much on Earth or in Heaven that compares to riding a '67 Chevy Impala down a lonely highway."

Sam couldn't help smiling. That was actually the first time Dean mentioned Heaven. Sam found it hard to suppress his curiosity, but he wasn't sure if Dean's comment really meant that he was ready to talk about it. So Sam kept quiet.

"What's wrong with you?" Dean had noticed his brother's silence. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, sure, everything's alright, Dean. I mean, how could it not be?"

"I don't know." Dean turned his eyes back to the road. "Maybe because…"

"Dean," Sam shook his head. "I spent months here on Earth knowing – each second – that my brother was somewhere suffering down in Hell. And that made me… go crazy. So now I'm here on Earth knowing you're in Heaven – happy and healthy. How could this not be alright?"

"I thought you were angry at me," Dean admitted slowly. "Because I left you behind."

"Hey, the other hobbits weren't allowed to sail into the West, either," Sam grinned when Dean frowned. "No, I'm fine, really. Besides, you're here with me right now and we're out hunting wendigos. Nothing really changed."

"A lot has changed, Sam. I'm not human anymore."

"Yeah, I know. There's a lot of cool stuff you're able to do now."

Dean chuckled.

"Like reading my mind. Come on, what am I thinking right now?"

Dean shook his head for a moment as if he wasn't in the mood to play this silly game but then he looked at his brother and raised his shoulders: "Hugh Jackman would look damn sexy in a miniskirt? Honestly, Sammy, I have no idea." He took in a deep breath. "This is not so much about reading someone's mind. It's more about feeling someone's emotions."

"I see," Sam replied. "So you're able to sense how I'm feeling."

"Something like that."

"And what _am_ I feeling?"

Dean looked into his eyes. "A bit of reluctance, uncertainty. Playfulness and excitement. And a huge amount of relief."

"Wow, creepy," Sam commented with a grin. "You seem to know better than I do myself." He shifted in his seat. "So, what about the wings? Sorry, but you must have seen that one coming."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, of course. Well, they're cool. They're huge."

"How huge?"

"They're higher than body height when folded. And wingspan's about three to four yards I'd say."

"Wow… And what do they feel like?"

"Heavy!" Dean replied instantly. "They're quite heavy. But they feel just like arms or legs. And when something touches the feathers, it feels like something touching your hair. You can't tell the exact spot, but you feel that something's there."

"And what color are they?"

"White."

They arrived at the forest a few minutes later.

The trees were dark and knobby and Dean was able to feel the presence of the two wendigos all around. "I know they're hiding somewhere close," he whispered quietly and they pulled out their guns.

Suddenly there was a quick movement and before Sam realized what happened he felt a hard stroke against his head and fell to the ground, unconscious.

When he opened his eyes again he and his brother were locked up in some dark place, a cellar maybe. The wendigos had captured them.

"Dean?" he whispered quietly. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Dean replied. "What about you?"

"I don't know…" Sam touched his head carefully. He was bleeding.

"Let me see," Dean crawled towards him, careful not to hit his head against the low ceiling. There was a rather large injury on Sam's head. The wendigos must have hit him pretty hard. Dean hesitated for a moment. Until now he had tried so determinately to keep all this angel stuff from Sam. He wanted them to be just like they used to be and he feared that wouldn't be possible anymore if Sam stopped thinking of him as his human brother Dean but instead of him as some supernatural, cosmic creature. That's why he had avoided this topic as long as possible even though he knew Sam was curious about him being an angel.

He looked at the bleeding injury at Sam's head. Hesitantly, he lifted his finger to his brother's forehead. "It'll be okay," he said and he was not talking about the injury. "Everything will be alright." He touched Sam's forehead and the injury was gone.

Sam looked back at him. "Wow… That was…"

At that moment the door to their prison was opened and the wendigos entered, ready to devour their prey.

Immediately, Dean grabbed the gas and the lighter, he disappeared and reappeared right behind their enemies, poured the gas over them and vanished again as the wendigos caught fire.

The smoke immediately filled the narrow room and Sam found it hard to breathe but Dean touched him again and they were standing outside under the trees of the forest.

Sam looked at Dean and Dean could read excitement as well as fear in his brother's heart. "I really didn't want to-"

"You saved us," Sam interrupted. "You beat them hands down."

Dean lowered his head. "I…"

"You're an angel now, Dean." Sam smiled. "I mean, why shouldn't you use these powers?"

"You're… really alright with that?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

In the evening, Dean suddenly touched Sam's forehead without warning and seconds later they were standing in the middle of Rome's Piazza San Marco.

Sam looked around him with eyes wide open. It was still early afternoon in Italy. The square was covered with people enjoying the sun and he could hear the cooing of the pigeons all around them. "Wow, Dean, this. Is. So. Awesome."

Dean grinned sheepishly. "I thought maybe Italian for dinner."

* * *

"We had so much fun," Dean ended his story with a smile on his lips. "And the next day we had breakfast in Paris and Chinese for dinner. I know you don't have any idea what's the difference between Italian and Chinese food, but believe me, the diversity is what makes it delicious."

"I believe it," Castiel replied calmly, huddling up even closer to Dean. They were both lying underneath the rustling branches of a large tree, Dean leaning against the firm trunk stroking the smooth skin of Castiel's arm with the tips of his fingers. There was this magically dark and at the same time golden light illuminating the Garden and a comfortable breeze brushed over the autumnal grass culms covering the meadow.

"And did you know that there are things to hunt in Italy and China as well? Different things than in the States. We hunted a dog with the face of a dragon in the streets of Beijing. That thing was called _oni-youzu_. We created a new page in Dad's journal, right next to the pages on angels."

"You have pages on angels?" Castiel asked surprised, turning his head just a little in order to be able to read in Dean's eyes whether he was joking or not. "What does it say about them?"

Dean couldn't suppress a smirk as he lowered his mouth closer to Castiel's ear. "Some kinky stuff." He got more confident when Castiel let out a bashful smile and bit his ear seductively, tracing the tip of his tongue along the edge of his ear. "You know," he purred "I _missed_ you."

Castiel shifted and Dean went further down, kissing his neck until he reached his shoulders. "I really missed you."

Castiel snorted and reached behind to touch Dean's cheek with his left hand as if to calm an overexcited dog. "Come on, Dean. Not now."

"What do you mean, _not now?_" Dean replied, voice muffled against Castiel's skin.

"Not _here,_" Castiel corrected and tried to break free of Dean's embrace.

Immediately Dean stopped and loosened his grip. "Why _not here_?"

Castiel seemed to calm down again. "This is the Garden, Dean. It's a sacred place."

"And you can't have sex here or what?" Dean frowned. "There's no one around!"

"You could," Castiel admitted. "But you simply _don't_. This is a holy place, Dean. Something like that is not done here."

"Not here, huh?" Dean let go of Castiel entirely, placing his hands on the ground to support his own weight. "If not here, then where else, Cas, hm? Where else?" His voice was demanding and angered.

Castiel could feel that he was upset for being snubbed. Dean's question resounded in his head and he knew that he had no answer to it. Shaking his head, he got up and took a few steps until he stopped again. "I don't know," he said without turning around. The issue had crossed his mind many times before. There was actually no place in Heaven where they could be together like that. It would be against everything he believed and held dear. But on the other hand, Dean had decided to follow him to Heaven. He had done it for him and given up everything else, even the time he could spend with Sam, and Castiel wanted to give him something in return. He didn't want him to regret. And this dilemma kept nagging at him all the time.

Just until now the issue hadn't been brought up and Castiel had been grateful for it. He knew that Dean would have never enjoyed their time together in Heaven as much as he had now if he had known from the very beginning that Castiel would refuse to be with him inside the Garden.

Dean looked at the angel standing a few steps in front of him. He could only see his back but that was enough to see that he was troubled. However, at that very moment, Dean didn't care. He felt as if God and Cas had messed with him. "Cas, you do realize that the Gates between Heaven and Earth are closed to you?" There was no reaction from Castiel. "We can't just zap to Earth that easily in order to spend the night there and then return to Heaven."

"I have no solution to that," Castiel said, still without turning around.

Dean sighed and leaned his head back against the tree trunk. "Great." Obviously now he had to correct his _eternity with Cas _to an _eternity just snuggling with Cas_.

* * *

In Heaven, there was no sun. There was this eerie dark golden light, sure, but there was no sun. That was the reason why Dean wasn't able to count the days or even tell what time of day it was. He kept strolling around the Garden for what seemed like forever. He had no idea where Cas was either. He feared that he might have pushed him too far and he was sorry for that. He felt very lonely being on his own in Heaven and he wished for Castiel to return, whether they could have sex or not.

It was strange. He didn't meet any other angels either. Castiel had told him once that it was because the Garden was practically an infinite place that made it almost impossible to run into somebody by chance. According to Castiel there were about five thousand angels in creation and spread across an infinite space it was really impossible to meet anyone.

However, Dean did enjoy this unfamiliar feeling of peace and safety. Up there in Heaven there were no dangers, no monsters, no demons. For the first time in his entire life he was totally at peace with himself, even – or _especially –_ without depending on others, on his father, Sam or Cas. This place was so calm and peaceful, with the grass, the gentle breeze and the occasional stream crossing the Garden. He inhaled the cleanest air ever in his life and he felt it run down his windpipe filling his lungs with warm, smooth life. No wonder God chose this place as his home.

Dean went further ahead until he reached a beautiful blue lake shimmering golden in the light. He stood there and watched it for a few moments until the air started stirring around him and the sound of flapping wings made him turn around.

It was Castiel, who was standing right in front of him, but before Dean was able to greet him, Castiel touched his forehead with his fingers and the surroundings changed immediately.

When Dean opened his eyes again that blissful feeling was gone and he realized that they were standing in the middle of a dark corridor. On the walls to each side there were small cabinets and shelves covered with books and expensive porcelain figures. At the end of the corridor there were stairs leading down. Dean could hear muffled voices coming from beneath.

He turned to Castiel. "We're on Earth?"

"No, we're still in Heaven," Castiel replied and looked around him carefully like a thief breaking into a house for the first time in his life.

"A dead person's _this is my most blissful memory ever-_Heaven? Like the one Sam and I were in?"

"Yes." Castiel opened one of the doors, grabbed Dean at his shoulder and pushed him inside.

Dean stumbled inside. It was some kind of study. There was a fancy desk in the middle of the room, a flat screen on top. At the walls there were expensive paintings and in the corner there was a couch and a TV in front of it. "And whose Heaven is it?"

Castiel shut the door noisily and locked it. "I have no idea."

Dean turned his head with a confused look on his face, but Castiel caught him with a fierce kiss, grabbing his wrists and pushing him back against the wall.

Dean stared at his eyes in shock. "Cas, what are you doing? I thought you didn't want to have sex in Heaven."

"Within the Garden," Castiel corrected. "We're outside the Garden here." He started working at Dean's clothes.

Dean however tried to catch his hands to make him stop. "Wait, Cas, but isn't this even worse? I mean we're intruding someone's _Heaven_ here. Someone's rightful sanctuary."

Castiel stopped and looked into Dean's eyes intensely. "Yes, we are," he said in a serious manner. "But this is _someone's_ Heaven, not God's. Which means, this is just as bad as within the Garden, but at least we have a chance here of not being caught."

Dean held his breath for a second staring back into Castiel's eyes. The forbiddenness lured him, he had to admit, and his feelings for Castiel were about to overwhelm him anyway. He could feel Castiel's body pressing him against the cold wall touching his wings. He was helpless, there was no escape for him. Castiel kissed his neck and he could feel his blood pressure rise. He grabbed Castiel's dark hair almost violently and closed his eyes, totally giving in to all sensations that were about to come.

And right now they realized how urgent this need had already become, how much they longed to feel each other once again. However, they struggled to be as quiet as possible and later – as they were lying on the sofa holding each other –they decided to leave this place before somebody got the chance to catch them after all.

* * *

There was a surreal sound in the air. A kind of sound Dean had never heard before anywhere on Earth. It consisted of frequencies his human ear could have never perceived. But now he heard it, clear and distinct. A celestial humming, like the sound of a ship's propeller, it was fearsome and terrifying.

"What is that sound?" he asked and looked down at Castiel who was lying on the soft, golden grass, sleeping with his head on Dean's lap.

"It's the Thrones, Dean," Castiel replied quietly without lifting his head. "The four angels guarding God's Throne. They can be heard sometimes from within the Garden. You don't have to be scared."

Dean could feel the ground vibrating underneath them but a few seconds later the sound was gone. He tried to relax again. "I guess there are lots of things I still have to learn about this place."

Castiel didn't reply and Dean looked at him with a thoughtful expression. He couldn't see Castiel's face but something told him that Castiel was acting strange and he feared he knew the reason.

It had to be about their stealthy encounter from two days ago, that wasn't hard to guess. Sure, Castiel had enjoyed it just as much but Dean couldn't help thinking that something had been bugging him since then. Castiel had been so reluctant about it in the first place but still he had ignored his own principles in the end just to make Dean happy. He had neglected his own beliefs in order to make this happen and all for Dean.

Dean lowered his head as the realization came to his mind that he unwillingly had left Castiel no other choice than to find a way to do this, even if it meant breaking sacred rules. He had done something to Castiel, something very bad, and he felt horrible about it. He wanted to make it up to him. He wanted to be at peace here in Heaven, especially with Castiel.

"Hey, Cas," he started with a quiet voice. "You know, it's strange. I didn't even know that the angels had the ability to enter a dead person's Heaven."

Castiel shifted for a second and then suddenly he rolled around, a serious expression on his face. Their eyes met. "This, Dean, is a serious crime. A very serious crime. Apart from those things we've done there, I need you to know that entering a dead person's Heaven – disturbing their peace in death – can get you punished severely. It can get you banished to Hell."

At those words, Dean held his breath. He hadn't been aware that not only had this been against Castiel's principles but also a real crime worth punishing. It made him feel even worse.

Castiel could read in his mind how bad Dean was feeling about it and so he lifted his hand to touch Dean's cheek. "It's alright."

Dean leaned in to his touch. "I'm so sorry that I made you do something you hate that much."

"You didn't make me do anything, Dean. It was my idea. And I didn't – _entirely_ – hate it. We were not caught; we didn't disturb anyone's peace. I just wanted you to know, so that you wouldn't become careless in the future." He stroked his cheek gently. "Please, stop feeling bad about this."

"So, you're not angry at me?"

"Why would I be?"

"Because you had to break your beliefs for me."

Castiel seemed to think about it for a few seconds. "There is a verse written in the Bible, Dean. It's from the First Epistle to the Corinthians. It says:

_For now we see through a glass, darkly;_

_but then face to face: _

_now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. _

_And now abideth faith, hope, love, these three; _

_but the greatest of these is love._

It means that you're never wrong choosing love over faith."

"And you believe that verse is true?"

"I always _used_ to believe it was true. But I didn't _know_ until I met you."

"Cas," Dean whispered and held him even closer. He would make it up to him, he swore.

* * *

Time went by and it was not until five months later that Dean returned to Earth once again. Time seemed to pass so quickly when living in eternal bliss and peace and Dean hadn't wanted to leave Castiel all too soon again. He had thought that by spending time with him he could make up for all those things Castiel was sacrificing to make him happy.

The strange thing however was that Sam's cellphone number was not available anymore. Dean looked at his own cell phone with a confused look. Did Sam break his phone? Or maybe buy a new one? "That's pure genius, dude," he growled. "How am I supposed to find you now?"

At that moment, an idea crossed his mind. _Dad's old cell phone… Certainly Sam kept that one._ At least Dean would have. Slowly he dialed the number he knew by heart and waited.

"Yes?" a voice answered.

"Sam? Hey, man, it's Dean."

There was a short silence. "Dean… I've been waiting for you… _all this time_…"

* * *

It was an unfamiliar room. Not a dirty motel room; it was a rental apartment in the outskirts of a small, quiet town.

Even though the curtains were wide open not much sunlight fell through the thick window pane covered by water marks and pollen. It gave the room a gloomy atmosphere.

There was not much furniture around. A bed, a trunk, a table next to the window. A fridge and an oven in the corner. An ugly floor lamp in front of the table and then there was this white rocking chair.

Its even creaking on the wooden floor was the only sound in the room, except for the unusual loud ticking of the wall clock next to the fridge.

Dean took one step towards the rocking chair.

The man sitting there had a blanket covering his feet. His weather-beaten forehead was covered with deep wrinkles. However, Dean recognized the nose, the chin, the eyes that were shining as brightly as he remembered them. Still, it hurt him to look at them.

The man in the rocking chair lifted his hand as if to invite Dean to come closer. "Dean… It's really you."

Dean walked over to him and kneeled down in front of the chair, placing his hand on the old man's wrinkled one resting on the curved arm of the chair. His throat was dry. This entire scenery was so surreal to him that he didn't even feel the urge to cry. "How?" was everything that passed his lips.

"I have been waiting for half a century." The old man's voice was weak and fragile. "But I always knew, in my heart, that one day you would return."

Dean watched the wrinkles covering his cheeks move as he talked. For a short moment, Dean closed his eyes as if to realize what that this was now reality. "I don't understand… How? _Why_?" He laid his cheek against his brother's hand like a little child would do. "Sam…"

The old man was calm, as if he had found his peace in this world. "I wanted to see you… once again. I struggled to hang on until then… And I made it…" A cloudy tear formed in his eyes and ran down his cheeks as he closed them. "So… _thank you_…"

The room became so much darker for Dean as the rocking chair stopped rocking.

* * *

"We need to talk," a voice said.

Castiel turned around to find Dean standing in front of him. "You're back."

"I am back," Dean said with an unreadable expression, his face red and damp.

Castiel could feel his emotions instantly and he knew something was _terribly_ wrong. "Dean?"

"Castiel." Dean gave him a deadly gaze. "Sam is dead. He died a few hours ago at the age of 78."

Castiel breathed out slowly and lowered his head slightly. "I'm so sorry to hear that… Please accept my condolences."

Dean shook his head. "I'm here for the _reason_."

Castiel looked at him. "I told you there was a time discrepancy between Heaven and Earth just as there is between Earth and Hell."

Dean struggled not to grab Castiel by his collar. "Yeah, but you hadn't told me that my brother would be an old man when I returned!"

Castiel didn't reply. He obviously didn't understand why he was being attacked right now. "Time flows differently in Heaven," he explained quietly. "Compared to Heaven time on Earth is accelerated by the coefficient 121. Meaning one day in Heaven is 121 days on Earth. The same coefficient applies to Earth and Hell as well. One day on Earth is 121 days in Hell, making one day in Heaven 121 times 121 days in Hell."

"Stop it. I don't wanna hear it."

Castiel continued. "In short, one day in Heaven is four months on Earth and at the same time 40 years in Hell. Now you know everything."

Dean shook his head. "You're talking about your mathematics… as if this was the point!"

"But you wanted to know…?"

"That's not the point!" Dean yelled, fearing to lose himself in his rage. "More than anyone, Castiel," he continued "I was meant to be with my brother. I was meant to be at his side, to protect him, from the day he was born. This, Castiel, was the purpose in my life. My _sacred duty_. And I neglected that duty so that I could be with him as well as with _you_, because I started to love you more than this duty would have ever allowed. I agreed to becoming an angel so that I could live my life with the both of you. First, a mortal lifespan with Sam, and _afterwards_ an eternity with you. I told you from the very beginning that this was the plan! And now Sam died as an old man and I've seen him twice since I left?"

"You never expressed the urge to visit him again during the last five months," Castiel interjected.

"Yeah, because I had _forgotten_ about this time shit! So why the Hell didn't you _remind_ me? Why – during all this time we lay around underneath some tree doing _nothing_ – why didn't you ever say a word about this? _Hey, Dean, don't you – by any chance – wanna go visit Sam? It's his sixtieth birthday today by the way?_ You knew and you still kept me unaware, while I was wasting so much precious – no, _invaluable_ – time with a dorky smile on my face?" He shook his head in resignation. "How could you do this to me?" His face was red with anger and disappointment. "Castiel, _how_?"

Castiel took a while until he replied. His eyes seemed to try to gaze into Dean's soul. He tried to _understand_. He could see how much Dean was hurt. He could understand the reason why, but he couldn't grab the feelings behind those suffering eyes. He wished he could be more human for Dean – but he knew he wouldn't ever be able to. "I thought you were happy," he replied totally honest.

"I was happy," Dean confirmed "but not anymore."

Castiel lowered his head and Dean could see that he was sad to hear it. As much as Dean wanted to understand the reason why Castiel hadn't reminded him of the time discrepancy, he knew that he wouldn't be able to get a straight answer from Castiel, one that would satisfy him. Because – however much Castiel tried to become human for him, to allow and accept feelings – Castiel would always stay an angel in his heart and – no matter how hard he himself tried to become an angel – Dean would forever be doomed to stay human in his heart.

Yet, Sam was dead. And nobody could ever bring him back to life. He had lost his brother. And moreover, he had lost the time he was supposed to spend together with him. Anger and disappointment filled his heart and pushed away any other feeling. He found himself unable to look Castiel into the eyes anymore. "If I had to be honest, Cas…" His voice was shaken, but at the same time firm. "If I had the chance to turn back time right now," he paused "I would do it."

Castiel looked away.

The words had hurt him, Dean could see that. But for a moment he thought it was a payback Castiel deserved. "I want to be alone now."

"Dean…" Castiel lifted his hand as if to hug him but Dean pushed it away.

"Get out of my sight, Castiel," he said with a serious voice. "Please, just go."

* * *

He had a hard time coping with the loss of his brother and maybe it was even harder because he had no one by his side to support him, to put his arms around him, to give him strength. He had pushed Castiel away and the angel hadn't returned since.

So Dean was sitting there alone in a place he didn't belong, drowning in his sorrow and his grief.

He started to despise Heaven, the angels, and most of all himself for letting his brother slip away.

Sam.

He would never be able to see him again in order to tell him how sorry he was. He would never…

_Or…_

The thought crossed Dean's mind like a flash of lightning. He had seen Castiel zap them into a dead person's Heavens before. He knew how it was done. He would be able to do it himself and he would not hesitate. It was his right to see his brother again.

_This, Dean, is a serious crime. A very serious crime._

Like he cared. He was, after all, only taking back what was rightfully his.

So he closed his eyes, concentrated, spread his wings and space seemed to bend just a little until he was standing in the middle of this old apartment room again, with the milky windows and the rocking chair.

The person standing next to the chair was Sam. Healthy and… alive.

Dean closed his eyes with happiness. He had him back. He had his brother back. No matter how forbidden this was – seeing Sam once again was worth any crime on Earth or in Heaven.

Sam was smiling at him. "Dean," he said as if he wasn't surprised at all to see his brother. "That's another advantage of being an angel."

"You seem so happy," Dean said quietly, careful to suppress any tears of joy for hearing his brother's voice again.

"I'm in Heaven, why wouldn't I be happy?" Sam replied casually.

Dean lowered his head and tried to change the subject. "Your Heaven looks like this room?"

"Heaven is supposed to look like your most precious memory, right?"

Dean looked at his brother for a while. "When I returned… that was your most precious memory ever?"

The corners of Sam's mouth twitched slightly and Dean couldn't help but pull his brother into a heartfelt hug.

"Wow," Sam said instantly. "They're really white. And fluffy."

Dean smiled. For a second he got the feeling that everything would be alright somehow.

* * *

Hours had passed but for Dean an eternity wouldn't be enough. He was overwhelmed with joy to be with Sam once again. It felt like a second chance for him to make up for all the lost time.

They were sitting on the edge of the window next to each other with two bottles of beer in their hands.

"I can't tell you how sorry I am…" Dean said after a while. "I have made you wait for a lifetime. But I didn't know that time on Earth was flowing differently than in Heaven… Castiel kept that from me."

Sam tried to crack a cheerful smile.

The thought of Castiel, however, pulled Dean's spirits down again. He felt so betrayed. He couldn't understand why Castiel would do something like that to him. Why he would take the risk to hurt him that much… "I think I made a huge mistake here, Sammy. I should have never agreed to this whole angel thing. I messed it up, Sammy. And in the end I hurt everyone, including you, Cas and myself."

"That's not true, Dean," Sam said with a reassuring tone of voice. "You made the right decision. It's the normal way of life. Everyone leaves their family someday to be with the one they love."

A slight smile curved Dean's mouth. "But they usually don't ascend to Heaven for that." He pursed his lips. "And look where it got me. I'm trapped inside the Garden for eternity."

"You can come visit me. And Mom and Dad. Ellen, Jo. You can visit them any time!"

"Not really," Dean admitted with a low voice. "The angels are not allowed to visit dead people's Heavens. It's a terrible crime to disturb their peace that gets you banished to Hell."

Sam blinked. "Then why are you here? Dean!"

"Sam, calm down."

"No way!" Sam shook his head. "You have to leave if this can get you to Hell."

"I'm already halfway in Hell, Sam!" Dean yelled, despair filled his eyes again. "I'm sure the angels know already that I'm here with you. They are on their way here."

"But, Dean…"

"It's okay, Sammy. Please let's not waste our last minutes."

"But what about Cas?"

Dean closed his eyes. "After what he's done… I'm not sure if he even ever really loved me."

"Dean." Sam put his hand on Dean's shoulder and looked him into the eyes. "He loves you very much. And this is exactly the reason why he kept the time difference from you. Because he wanted to be with you. Because he loves you."

"Yeah, great." Dean shook his head. "If you love someone you can't be that selfish."

Sam shrugged slightly. "Maybe that's something an angel has yet to learn."

There was a vibrating noise filling the room, the ground started shaking and Dean knew that the angels were coming for him.

Sam stared at him in fear. "Dean, you need to run!"

Dean however shook his head and gave Sam a heartfelt smile. "I have nowhere to run."

There was a sad resignation in Sam's eyes. "Oh, Dean…"

"Don't worry, Sam. Now I know where I can find you. Having seen you once again was everything I wanted, so maybe… you could wait for me again."

"You're my brother, Dean," Sam said with a solemn expression in his eyes. "I'd wait for you forever."

Seconds later, the room was flooded by blinding white light.

* * *

The dark sunlight was blinding Castiel for an instance as he was sitting underneath a tree within the Garden. He was alone and he felt alone.

He couldn't stop thinking of all those times he had been sitting there together with Dean, holding each other close, doing nothing more than spending time with each other. He had cherished every second but now he knew it had been the wrong thing to do.

He had been about to tell Dean about Sam thousands of times, millions of times, but each time he had felt the loneliness, the cold that returned to Heaven whenever Dean was gone. So he had kept quiet. He had known that it was a cruel thing to do and now he paid the price. Sam was dead and no one could ever bring him back. Dean would never forgive him.

Still, he wanted to tell him. He wanted to tell him that he was sorry, that he wanted Dean to forgive him for keeping this fact from him. Dean simply needed to know.

Castiel stood up again, closed his eyes and started searching the Garden for Dean's presence, but he couldn't find him. He did it again and again, but Dean was not there anymore.

An unexpected fear grew inside Castiel's heart and he was startled by the intensity of this emotion. What if Dean had taken his own life? What if he was gone forever? He couldn't stand the thought. He had lived ages without even knowing Dean, but now that he did, now that he loved him, he couldn't find any pleasure in living without him anymore.

So he went to see the other angels and asked them if they knew about what had happened to Dean.

They told him that he was no longer an angel. He had been banished to Hell for disturbing the peace of the dead.

Castiel couldn't believe it. He refused to believe it. They had been so careful when they had snuck into someone's Heaven… Nobody could have possibly caught them! He stared at the other angels and waited for judgment to be passed on him as well.

However, nothing happened.

Suddenly, Castiel realized. Dean must have gone to Sam's Heaven on his own to see his brother once again and even worse, the one who had shown Dean the way to do that had been Castiel himself.

He asked the other angels how much time had already passed since Dean was thrown into Hell and they said it was about three days.

Three days.

Castiel stopped breathing for a moment.

Three days in Heaven were… _one hundred and twenty years_ in Hell.

He had lost him. He had lost him for eternity.

* * *

There was a demon in Hell who had long forgotten his name. He was nothing more than a tormented creature full of hate and scorn and emptiness. They said that demons used to be human souls in the past, but he couldn't remember. He didn't think there used to be any good inside his heart ever. He took his pleasure from torturing and that sensation was what kept him going.

In Hell, each day seemed like the one before. There was no real difference when living in eternal pain anyway.

However today, today was a special day.

There had been many souls tied to his racks. He had lost count ages ago. Guilty souls, innocent souls, he had had them all and he enjoyed them all, each one in their own very special ways. The guilty souls, for example, were always so full of remorse. They prayed to be able to turn back time to live their lives a better way. It was ridiculous to see them suffering from their unchangeable and unforgettable guilt. They knew it was their own fault ending up in Hell and they could blame no one else for it.

The innocent were pleasant to torture as well because they couldn't understand why they deserved to be punished. They gradually lost faith in all good things and so they were always the first ones to break.

So he enjoyed both kinds of souls and he wouldn't be able to decide which one he liked better, but there was always some kind of victim that lured him the most. A kind of soul that he had only heard of from other demons, when they talked secretly and quietly about them, as if it was forbidden to even say their names. _Angels_.

And now, on this very special day, there was one of them lying before him, white, massive wings already stained with blood. The demon couldn't believe his luck.

"Dean," Castiel said and tried to move, but he couldn't. His arms and legs were tied to the sides of the table he was lying on. Strong manacles soaked with holy oil. No angel could ever break them.

He looked up to the demon standing next to the table. He didn't react to the name Castiel had spoken, but deep inside his heart Castiel could feel it was him. He couldn't recognize him by shape anymore however, for his skin was torn apart, his eyes dark and demonic, but he could feel his soul. Or at least what was left of it.

"Dean," he said once again, pain but also relief in his voice. "I found you."

"You found me indeed," the demon answered. "And I have to say, I have waited ages to finally meet one of your kind." There was a smile on his face and even though the demon's words scared Castiel in a strange but subtle way, he knew from the moment he saw that smile that it simply had to be Dean.

The demon pulled out a metallic device that seemed like a mixture of saw and pincers. The blades were flashing in the dazzling light.

In contrast to Heaven, Castiel knew, Hell was a bright place. A painfully bright place. Everything was exposed there. One could not simply suffer in silence covered by darkness, no. The pain was visible for everyone else and that was the worst thing about Hell. The piercing light that illuminated the agony of the souls tortured down here.

"Dean," Castiel said in a calm but also weak voice "do you recognize me?"

The demon came closer until he sat down on the edge of the table. He was entirely defaced, blood running down his forehead and his cheeks. However, he didn't seem to be in pain. "But of course I recognize you, my sweet little angel," he replied in a patronizing tone of voice and let his fingers trace along Castiel's side. "You are so perfect…" The feathers brushed his hand gently.

"I am so sorry for what I did to you, Dean," Castiel said with a whisper. "Please forgive me."

The demon looked down at him with a compassionate gaze. "There is nothing to be forgiven, angel," he said and the pincers in his hand touched Castiel's skin.

It was made of hard, cold metal. Castiel could feel the jags of the saw-like blade carving into his skin. He winced slightly. "Dean... stop it... Don't you recognize me... It's me, Castiel..."

The demon paused. "Castiel? I know that name." For a short second he seemed thoughtful and suddenly he lifted the tool away from Castiel again. "Castiel..."

"Dean! I am so glad you're alive..." Castiel closed his eyes for a few seconds. "When I heard that they banished you to Hell again... I couldn't think clearly anymore... I tried to reach you but… the demons caught me. I'm so sorry it took me so long."

The demon lifted his finger and put it on the angel's lips to silence him. "You're here now, that's all that matters, Castiel," he replied.

"I love you, Dean," Castiel said and looked back at him with remorse in his eyes.

The demon smiled gently, then he leaned down to Castiel, his lips coming closer until only inches separated them.

Castiel closed his eyes. Inside his heart there was a happiness to know that Dean was alive, that he was alright and that Castiel would be able to save him. As long as they were together, they would manage to get by. Somehow.

A piercing pain suddenly hit his shoulder like a flash of lightning. He opened his eyes wide and the demon started laughing manically.

The blades of the pincers in his hands had cut deep into Castiel's shoulder, carving through flesh and skin until blood started dripping from it.

The physical pain Castiel was feeling right now, however, was nothing compared to the despair that was carving into his heart right now. He couldn't understand... was that demon really Dean? Or was he wrong about him? What if it was Dean and he couldn't remember him? What if he had lost his mind and all the memories they shared together? How was he supposed to save him then? Was it even possible to save him anymore?

"You angels really do live up to my expectations." The demon pushed the pincers deep into Castiel's flesh again. Warm blood ran down along his arm.

He winced but struggled to stay strong. "Dean, why are you doing this...? Please..."

The demon looked down at him with a pitiful expression. "Because that's what I've been waiting for for so many years. I've tortured countless souls, but nothing is as entertaining as breaking an angel."

"That's not really you, Dean..." Castiel gasped. The pain became stronger, almost unbearable.

Dean put the saw down for a second. "Why do you keep calling me that? I'm not _Dean_, so stop it. It annoys me."

"You have to remember who you are! Who you used to be... You used to be an angel yourself. You used to be human."

"I have never been human, angel," the demon replied. "I was born in pain and despair. I was born a demon."

"That is not true… You used to be a good person." Castiel felt resignation weighing on his soul. He had no idea how he could make Dean remember… He didn't know.

But then he suddenly could hear Dean's words inside his head... _Being with my brother... That was the purpose of my existence. My sacred duty... _If that really was the most precious thing to Dean, that what defined his existence... Then maybe... "You used to be human, Dean. You used to live on Earth for many years! Together with your brother Sam. You have to remember... The memory is inside your heart. I know you would never be able to forget him. Please, Dean, remember!"

The demon seemed to pause for a second. "Sam..." The name seemed to initiate some kind of reaction inside the demon's soul.

"That's right!" Castiel said quickly. "His name was Sam and he was everything to you. You were the one to protect him from the day he was born..."

"Shut the Hell up," the demon suddenly replied, angered. "I hate it when objects talk too much." As if to emphasis his threat he pushed the blades deep into Castiel's flesh once again, slicing down his upper arm until he reached his elbows. The bleeding cut gaped open.

Castiel screamed at the pain. His body started to struggle against the manacles but they were too strong for him to break.

"That's better," the demon said after a while. "I think we'll have a good time."

"Definitely," Castiel replied with a defiant expression in his eyes.

The demon smirked down at him. "I like that." He lifted his torture tool up again, this time only inches away from Castiel's eyes, and leaned closer to him. "You can't image how long I waited for this," he whispered quietly "...angel."

Slowly Castiel lifted his head up, only as much as the manacles would allow him to, but it was enough to touch the demon's lips with his own. They were unfamiliar and uneven, but still Castiel couldn't help feeling this strange certainty that this was nothing more than his last desperate effort to make Dean remember.

The demon closed his eyes for a second as the angel kissed him. He knew this sensation... He knew it very well... And he knew he had loved it. Once upon a time, in a life he couldn't remember anymore. A life that was long over. However, he could remember the happiness he used to feel when this angel kissed his lips with loving gentleness and something inside his mind, something that used to keep his memories away from his consciousness, broke. Not by the power of love or some cheesy force, no, but by the simple familiar sensation of the one thing he used to love so much mixing with the insuppressible awareness of his duty to protect Sam, his brother. Sammy. _You're my brother, Dean. I will wait for you forever. _

And Castiel. Cas_. And never forget that I love you. _

Dean pulled away and stared into Castiel's eyes that were looking up at him so full of fear and insecurity but also full of hope. "Cas..." he said and the pincers in his hand finally dropped to the ground. The look in Dean's eyes became softer and there was almost a resemblance to his past self. "Cas..." he said again, looking aside.

"Dean," Castiel could feel relief filling his heart, making the uncertainty go away. This was Dean. It was really him and he remembered. He tried to smile at him but the injury at his shoulder hurt too much.

"You shouldn't be here... You shouldn't have come here for me," Dean said with a low, broken voice. "I'm not who I used to be anymore."

"It will be alright," Castiel said with a whisper. "I'm here now. I will save you."

Dean however shook his head. "I fear you can't... anymore."

"I see you've already made friends with our little angel," a voice suddenly said.

Dean didn't have to turn around in order to know who it was. He was called the Guardian in Hell, the master of torture. He supervised the suffering of the souls punished. A demon named Alastair had once had this position, but since his death another demon had succeeded in his place. That demon was picking up the pincers and putting them back into Dean's hand, closing his fingers around the cold metal he knew so well.

"I was just about to start," Dean said in a low voice and avoided looking into Castiel's eyes.

"That's good," the Guardian replied. "This is a truly historic moment for all of us. It's been more than a hundred years since we last had an angel down here. It's a great honor that you were chosen to perform this."

"I know that," Dean replied. "I intend to enjoy it."

Castiel observed Dean's every reaction. He knew he was only faking this so that the Guardian wouldn't become suspicious. The Guardian was a demon of high rank but Castiel knew he could take him out if he got the chance to. The manacles at his hands and legs however kept him from acting. So he waited. He waited for this nightmare to end.

The Guardian's eyes were as white as snow as he put his hand on Dean's shoulder in an almost fatherly way. "Then go ahead." He smiled encouragingly. "Cut off his wings."

Castiel's eyes widened. "No," he said and the very fear of losing his wings made him question to what degree Dean was actually on his side.

Dean lifted the pincers again, that strange tool that seemed to be a mixture of pincers and saw; it was simply perfect to cut even through the strongest bones while inflicting the highest amount of pain possible.

Castiel was not sure if he would survive an amputation like that. Maybe he would die of pain and if not, then he would certainly die of blood loss. Then again, this was Hell. It was a place to suffer, not a place to die.

Dean put the saw against the root of the wing bone.

The Guardian watched him with curiosity.

Dean waited but then put the saw down again. "I think it would be more fun to cut the wing off in pieces," he said. "He's only got two wings. As soon as they're gone it will be over. I want to take this to the limits."

The Guardian turned his head towards him and stared at him for a while.

Castiel prayed that he wouldn't suspect anything.

"Alright. It's your torture. Do it the way you like it."

Dean nodded and swallowed. The Guardian didn't intend to leave and he couldn't hesitate any longer or otherwise he might decide to do the torture himself... And Castiel wouldn't survive that... He clutched the pincers in his hands, then turned around to look at Castiel.

"It's okay," the angel whispered secretly. "Do it."

Dean hesitated. He couldn't believe Castiel had come down to Hell to save him... After all, it was his own fault that he ended up there – and now Castiel should suffer for it? Dean could never do that. He could never hurt him.

The Guardian's eyes rested on his shoulder.

"Do it," Castiel whispered again, this time with even more emphasis.

Dean felt his throat getting dry. He had to do it. Or else they would both suffer. So he put his knee on the table Castiel was bound to and pulled himself up, until he was kneeling on the table, his legs to each side of the angel's body, the pincers ready in his hands. He trembled but the Guardian couldn't see it. Slowly he put the pincers at Castiel's right wing bone, sliding far down to the tip of the wing so that he would only have to cut off a few inches of the bone. He looked into Castiel's eyes, who was lying beneath him, fear and panic in his eyes. He was expecting the pain. He was ready to take it.

"I can't," Dean whispered quietly.

"You have to," Castiel hissed. "Do it!"

Dean closed his eyes. He could not face Castiel's suffering gaze while doing his. Trembling, he clutched the pinchers in his right hand and let his left hand slide underneath the table where Castiel's hand was fastened. He slid his fingers between Castiel's, holding his hand close. He could feel Castiel closing his fingers around his, strong, cold and trembling. He waited. _Do it! Do it now!_ his consciousness commanded multiple times, but his body didn't obey. He waited. He pleaded for this nightmare to end. He clutched Castiel's hand with his own. Then he cut.

He couldn't hear Castiel's screams at first. His mind seemed to shield them out, to keep him safe from that painful reality in which his loved one was suffering by his own hands. He didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to feel his struggling body underneath his own, his desperate, shallow breathing as he tried to twist in agony. It was too much for Dean to take. So he waited, petrified.

When Castiel seemed to calm down a little again, the Guardian moved. "That was nice," he said and picked up the small piece of bone Dean had cut off. "Impressive," he said nodding and walked away with a content smile on his lips. "Angel's wings are such a treat."

Dean waited until he was sure the Guardian had left. "Cas, Cas!" he screamed, cupping the angel's cheek with his palm. "Are you alright?"

Castiel didn't reply. He was still breathing hard, as if the pain was too much for him to take.

Quickly, Dean loosened the manacles at Castiel's arms and legs helping him to sit up.

Castiel didn't look at him. He crawled off the table and sat down on the ground, his back leaning against the racks.

Dean sat down next to him. "Cas… Will you be alright?"

Castiel looked at the bleeding tip of his wing. "It's okay. It just… hurts."

Dean pulled his knees to his chest and buried his face in his hands. "I am so sorry. I wish I could change everything that has happened." Suddenly, however, he could feel Castiel's arm around his shoulder.

"I'm here to apologize, Dean. I messed this up in every way possible… And you still being alive is more of a gift to me than I actually deserve."

Dean turned his head to look at him.

"I should have never kept you away from Sam. I am so sorry for that… I didn't mean to…"

"Cas, stop…" Dean interrupted with an exhausted voice. "I am the one who messed this up, not you. I knew the rules of Heaven and I still broke them. And I made you break them too. This is the right place for me to end up."

"Dean…" Castiel shook his head.

"Just look at me!" Dean hissed desperately. "I'm a demon now. I'm a _monster_. I lost the ability to feel a long time ago. I'm a torturer now. I feed from pain." He paused. "I've only been alive on Earth for thirty years, Cas. But I've been to Hell for altogether 160 years now. That's five times as long as I've lived. I'm five times more of a demon than I used to be human. And let's face it: I've never been an angel."

"You have been an angel," Castiel replied. "And you're still human. You will always be. You're still able to feel. Otherwise there wouldn't have been these tears in your eyes when you cut off that piece of my bone. You wouldn't have held my hand underneath the table." He lifted his gaze to the distance. "Look, I don't want you to forgive me, Dean. I know I could never ask that of you because it's my fault that you had to suffer down here for 120 years. I want to save you. I want to end this nightmare for us. That's why I came down here." He waited for a few seconds, blood still dropping from his wing, leaving an uneven stain on the ground. "I only wish we could start over again. Without demons or Hell or Paradise, without secrets or pretense or broken rules or torture. I wish there would only be us."

"There _was_ us," Dean murmured quietly, as if to himself, without turning his head. "We were happy on Earth but it wasn't enough for us. And then we had Paradise in Heaven but it still wasn't enough for us. And now we ended up down here in the depths of Hell. Serves us right."

"We can make it up," Castiel replied. "We can overcome this. We messed this up, we both made mistakes, but we can learn."

"Those things… We can never make them undone. We will never be able to forget."

"But we still have each other."

Dean paused and looked at the angel. "Do you still love me?"

"I love you," Castiel said with tears in his eyes as he let his head rest on Dean's shoulder. "I love you so much."

Dean pulled him closer. "I love you too," he whispered with a trembling voice, burying his face in Castiel's hair. "I swear I'll put things right for you, baby. I swear it."

They stayed silent like that for hours until Dean felt the ground start trembling slightly, a menacing trembling and he knew the Guardian was about to return to them.

He touched Castiel's cheek with both his hands and kissed him one last time as if to bid him farewell before he helped him up onto the racks again, taking the pincers back into his hands.

And the Guardian was standing right next to him.

"You didn't get much work done, I see," he said in a suspicious voice.

"I'm torturing him mentally," Dean replied and in his heart he tried to imagine that this was actually the truth so that he would sound more convincing. "Just give me a little more time. I was just about to enjoy myself."

"I'll take over the torture from here," the Guardian announced, unimpressed.

The words resounded in Dean's ears. He could not refuse or otherwise the Guardian would torture them both. He looked at Castiel who was lying there, helpless and scared. He wanted this nightmare to end for Castiel so there was only one opportunity left.

"Alright," he said slowly throwing one last glance at the angel he would gladly sacrifice his happiness for. Then he turned around, quickly, unexpectedly, too fast for the Guardian to react, pushing the pincers brutally into the Guardian's neck. Blood sprayed at Dean's face but he didn't stop and pulled the other demon to the ground.

It would only take a few minutes until all Hell broke loose, literally. He turned his head to Castiel, opening the manacles with ease. "This is your chance! You have to leave!"

"What about you?" Castiel hesitated.

Dean shook his head. "I'm a demon. And demons belong in Hell."

Castiel however gripped his arm firmly. "I am an angel. And I used to think angels belong in Heaven. Maybe that's true. Maybe angels do belong in Heaven, yes, but I, I belong to you."

"Cas…" Dean replied and a few instances later he saw Earth's sunlight once again, realizing how beautiful it actually was after all.

* * *

It started snowing when Castiel walked across the field of lava rock, his shoes barely touching the black ground, stirring up dust with every step he took.

The snowflakes came falling down without making a single sound. They were silent and pure white. They reminded Castiel of Heaven. So light and soft. When they touched the ground they disappeared at once as if the snow wasn't used to covering solidified lava. It would eventually tough, Castiel knew. Earth had been through a lot of changes while they were gone. One of them was the climate. It was 2063, after all.

Castiel liked to see the snow touching the black lava rocks. It was like Heaven meeting Hell. On Earth. It fit Dean and him so well. They were a bit of all three. Dean was born a human, he got the chance to become an angel and ended up being a demon. Castiel himself had been an angel until he was expelled from Heaven and became human. Now he was an angel again. Earth always used to be a bit of Heaven and Hell at the same time so it was the fit place for them to live.

A thin white film already started covering the black ground and Castiel quickened his pace. Heavy gray clouds were covering the dark sky. There would be so much more snow to fall.

He reached his destination a few minutes later. The foot of the volcano was covered with enormous edgy rocks, remains of the landscape that used to be here before fire and heat made it turn to piles of dust and stone. Sometimes the rocks reminded Castiel of the collapsed ruins of a once beautiful city.

Dean was sitting where two rocks formed a v-shaped corner, his back leaning against the sharp boulders. Even though the injuries were starting to heal, the scars on his skin would stay.

"How are you feeling?" Castiel asked quietly and kneeled down next to him.

"The cold snow feels good on my skin. On what's left of it, at least," Dean replied without turning his gaze.

Castiel started dipping a cloth into clean water, carefully dabbing against the two scarred stumps on Dean's shoulder blades that used to be his wings. "How did you survive what they did to you?" Castiel asked after a while with a pensive tone of voice.

"Because I had you in my heart," Dean looked over his shoulder. "You gave me the strength to see this nightmare through. And even though I can't erase any of those things that happened, I still want to try it again. I still want this eternity with you."

"I feel the same," Castiel replied. "But what about your brother? I can never give you back that time you lost, even if I wished to."

"I know Sammy is happy and safe up there," Dean assured with a slight smile. "He is now at the place the farthest away from Hell. There is no need for me to protect him anymore. I know where I can find him. And that's a good thing."

Castiel looked back at him, still not sure whether Dean would really be alright with it or not.

"What about you?" Dean asked quietly. "You will never be able to return to Heaven again. I can never bring you back to the place you wanted to be either."

"I'm cut off from Heaven now, I know. My powers are gone," Castiel said lowering his head. "But you had the strength to give up everything just to be with me when I couldn't. So now it's my turn to prove that strength."

The snow had now covered the pitch black ground with millions of fragile snowflakes.

"And I will," Castiel said closing his eyes with determination.

"Then let's go," Dean said, touching Castiel's cheek and their eyes met. "Let's go and find the meadow and the tree and make this our own Heaven, with our own rules, right here on Earth."

"Yes," Castiel nodded and kissed him with a smile on his lips. "Let's go."

**THE END**

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Please check out Neemeister's illustration of **Heaven **on: neemeister(dot)livejournal(dot)com/10781(dot)html

Psycocatgirl has created an illustration of the** final scene**: yukikousagi(dot)deviantart(dot)com/#/d2vjqdo

If you liked the story, I would be so happy if you left a comment :) Thanks!


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